Chapter 53 Griffin
Griffin
Griffin pins back the door to his condo while a crew of movers roll in furniture on a dolly to the room that used to be his guest bedroom.
Over the past three weeks, The Griffin Hayes Foundation for Youth Sports has landed on several major news outlets, and the calls for collaboration have been so great that Griffin has hired a personal assistant to help him manage the communications.
Griffin doesn’t need a guest bedroom—visiting family always choose a hotel stay anyway—but now he absolutely needs a home office.
The movers secure the legs to the base of the desk, then rip off the protective paper layered around the other parts, and finally set it in place.
Next, shelving is brought in, Bubble Wrap shed, and Griffin directs the movers to place the pieces where he’s planned for them to go.
Finally, a black leather desk chair is rolled in.
Griffin has ordered office supplies that’ll come at a later date.
This will be headquarters for the foundation while his assistant works remotely.
Over the three weeks since the brewery kickoff event, The Griffin Hayes Foundation has boomed.
Griffin has completed several virtual news features, and he’s been invited to partner with a sports clothing brand on a gala that will raise funds for his foundation.
He put together some social media sites—ones that have since gained tens of thousands of followers.
The basic website is Griffin’s handiwork, and he himself manages the correspondence with schools and athletes applying for assistance.
Beverly suggested establishing a protocol for accepting applications and reviewing them in batches at set times so that reviewing isn’t constantly in flux.
For now, Griffin will track and accept new applications, but no decisions will be made until the new year.
Beverly is connecting Griffin to some local business executives as well as he works on establishing a board of advisers.
Griffin isn’t holding back. Rather than waking up thinking about his nutrition and exercise for the day, he wakes up thinking about his foundation work for the day.
Sure, he still eats mostly the same diet and works out—either at home or at the gym he recently joined down the street—but that routine has shrunk to become a piece of his life, not the be-all and end-all.
Griffin has been stopping in at South Shore to check on the players and coaches.
He’s also visited several other local high schools for practice, stepping in to coach briefly, talking to players to inspire them, taking questions from hopeful players.
That’s the work Griffin wants to spend his time doing, which is why he’s already hiring staff to make the gears move behind the scenes.
He can make the biggest difference in front of the players, on the field.
And he’ll show his face at whatever event is necessary to help raise the money to keep things flowing smoothly. It’s all about playing to everyone’s strengths, and the foundation will make the greatest impact possible.
The movers begin balling up the discarded packing materials, then carry the trash out to the chute in his hallway.
Eventually they present him with a clipboard to sign for the delivery, and they depart.
When the elevator arrives, the movers stand back to allow a passenger to step out.
One mover eyes Aria as if he’s trying to place her, but they load on without fuss and disappear.
On Griffin’s threshold, Aria flings her arms around his neck and dots a peck on his lips. “Sorry, I’m sweaty, and definitely not smelling my freshest.”
“They got you flipping tires today?”
Aria laughs as she pushes past him. “I’m sure they’d love that, but not today. I just had to come by and see your new office after all the chatter about it.”
Griffin stands back and admires Aria as she marches toward the office.
She wears workout leggings, a long sports bra, and tennis shoes.
Her trainer has her working out religiously in preparation for her long back-to-back shows.
In some ways, they’ve switched spots—Aria sweating in the gym, and him squirreled away in a home office, concocting magic.
Before Griffin can join her down the hallway, her gleeful scream rings out. “It’s wonderful! You’re doing it!”
Aria practically bowls him over when Griffin makes it inside the room. “And here I was thinking I was the excited one.”
Aria looks up from where she rests, leaning into his chest. “I’m just so happy for you. It’s what it represents. And it’s also just nice stuff.”
“Well, thank you for helping me pick it out.”
Aria winks. “Anytime.”
“And thank you for the rest—”
“I didn’t see any other furniture.” Aria’s brow wrinkles in an adorable way that only comes out when they’re together.
“No, I meant the help. Getting to this place.”
Aria whacks his chest lightly. “Oh, you did the hard part. I just nudged you along a little. Plus, my adoration of you, gimp knee and all, helped.”
Griffin laughs. “And you keep me laughing.”
Aria shrugs. “Any chance I can drag you away from work for lunch? I swear I cannot eat enough with how much they have me working out.”
“Do I need to start meal prepping for you?” Griffin asks.
Nowadays, he makes time to cook—unless he and Aria are going out—a few times a week, and it’s brought a new joy to life. Turns out food can be fuel and enjoyable. All it takes is a little personal flexibility.
Aria cringes. “I appreciate the offer, but I will firmly pass. I’m willing to do the gym program because I don’t want to expire onstage, but I need a little more variety in my diet.”
“Fair enough. And yes to lunch—as long as I’m back for a three o’clock call. I’m hoping to hire the woman I’m meeting with to join the board.”
Aria pulls back and walks with purpose from the room. “Easy peasy.”
Griffin follows, and Aria calls over her shoulder, “Have I told you that I love this version of you?”
A smile cracks over Griffin’s face, and his cheeks heat, presumably turning red like always. Yes, she has, but yes, he still wants to hear it. He will probably blush over Aria’s affection, her attention, her care, forevermore, and he’s okay with that.
“Luckily for me, you have. And have I told you I love this version of you?”
“The sweaty, stinky one?” Aria scoffs. “You’re sweet, but we can be honest.”
Griffin rushes up behind her, turns her around, threads his arms around her waist, and lifts her with ease into his arms. Aria lets out a shrieking laugh, then throws her arms around his neck.
Griffin presses his mouth deeply into hers and keeps it there until he has to pull back for air. “Yes. This version. Regular, everyday you. Stink and all.”
Griffin’s arms are like steel, holding her in front of him, and Aria slides her hands to cup his cheeks. “I’m the luckiest.” She pecks his lips. “Now let’s get me fed before I turn into a far hangrier version of the me you claim to love in all states.”
Griffin lowers Aria gently to standing, then quickly gathers his phone and keys from his kitchen counter. “Your wish is my command.”
Aria starts telling him about her workout and the plans for the new show she’ll debut on this tour—one that includes their song—and they ride the elevator down to the underground parking garage.
Griffin can’t help but hang on the words he last spoke to her.
He genuinely does want to make her wishes come true.
Never before has he felt so deeply connected to someone, his own personal interests so intrinsically woven with hers.
Griffin feels alive when he’s with Aria, inspired and challenged, but also accepted as is.
Her quick wit is charming, her depth enchanting, and her everyday antics a complete delight.
There is no better feeling than being with her, and he’ll hold on to this for as long as she lets him.